


(More Than) Enough

by ChocoChipBiscuit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, Dildos, F/F, Oral Sex, Sex Magic, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 09:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10761720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit
Summary: Adaar and Sera are in the early stages of their romance when a drunken late-night convo between Bull and the Chargers and Sera leaves her feeling a little ... inadequate. The solution? Fine mechanical cocks, direct from Orzammar!





	(More Than) Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeeAtwater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeAtwater/gifts).



> To Lee. This fandom can always use more Sera. <3
> 
> (Also, the dildo is actually wooden, not mechanical, but then the summary wouldn't be nearly as hilarious!)

Adaar sits on the edge of the bed, eyes closed. The sun’s warm on her closed eyelids, her world limited to red and bright as Sera rustles with leather and metal and something that sounds like a buckle. It’s a surprise— which can be alarming, coming from Sera— but one that’s been hinted at in teases and flirts, the way Sera winks and sticks her tongue out and occasionally grabs Adaar’s ass in a two-handed fistful of absolute delight.

“So… Honey Tongue, you can open your eyes now, yeah?” Sera says.

Adaar opens them.

She blinks.

She laughs.

She immediately knows that’s the wrong response as Sera’s cheeks flame pink and blotchy, sprawling all the way to the tips of her ears and down her chest. Sera hunches her shoulders forward, her pretty bare tits trying their best to sag themselves into oblivion even as the enormous wooden _thing_ between her legs stands at full attention.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shoulda known better than— I look a right arse, don’t I?” Sera sputters. Her nails scrabble over the leather harness, cunningly embossed and dyed to resemble woven rope, and she tears off the buckle and steps out of it in a mess of red straps and heavy thuds as it hits the floor.

Adaar curls herself on her side, patting the bed in unspoken invitation. Sera immediately pops into place, one foot tucked between Adaar’s thighs and her face buried in Adaar’s chest. Still sniffling, and Adaar tries not to think too hard about the snot smeared on her cleavage.

“It is… very oversized, on you,” Adaar says. Is this diplomatic? She hopes so. Or maybe not; Sera hates dissemblance in all its forms, and Adaar has never been a peacemaker. Most disputes in Valo-Kas were settled with headbutting, literal or figurative, and then leaning on Shokrakar for intervention if that didn’t work out.

(And she can just _imagine_ writing that letter to Shokrakar. “Hello, I made my girlfriend cry, please advise.” Shokrakar’s reply would blister the paper.)

“Look, I just figured—- you’re a big girl, yeah? I _like_ it. Woof.” Sera’s voice is muffled, little more than a mumble of warm breath against Adaar’s nipple. “I mean, I could work my arm up you if you wanted, but then that’s one less hand to grab at your tits or smack your arse, and maybe if I got like— a toy— one of those harness-y things that Bull won’t shut up about Tama Great-Tits or whatever, and then Rocky was talking about shiver runes, and normally I’m not much for magic going up the crotch, but it sounded fun, and… and…”

Her stomach knots, then cracks under the strain of that horrified realization. “You… asked _the Chargers_ for advice?”

“We-ell, it wasn’t _advice_ so much as _talking_.” Sera puffs out her cheeks and glares up, like a very angry blonde toad. “Look, we all had a couple drinks, and then we were all talking about some of the _best_ times we ever done it, and of course _you’re_ the best, so…”

Adaar very strongly considers murdering Bull.

“So… look, the dwarves are doing _great_ shit with mechanical cocks and balls. And Dagna’s the best fucking artificer and she’s right _here_.” Sera takes a deep breath, wheedles. “So I got a giant cock for my girlfriend. Is that so wrong?”

“Have I ever acted like I want a giant cock in me?” Adaar asks, stupefied. She tries not to think too hard about the fact that _Dagna_ built this. Dagna, for whom she still harbors not-entirely-platonic feelings for. And who has featured in more than one late-night session of “would you with…” between her and Sera.

“Well… no?”

“Do _you_ want the giant cock in you?”

“ _Fuck_ no!”

Adaar places her hand on Sera’s back, stretching her fingers. She can easily span Sera’s shoulders like this, her lover small and achingly fragile. The hand with the Rift stays securely tucked beneath the pillows, supporting Adaar’s head and out of sight. It still makes her somewhat queasy to look at. “I love you very much. You are the perfect size, just for you, and—” Well, shit. She’s not a poet either, and she can only imagine Kaariss stage-whispering advice like ‘speak from the heart!’ or ‘set it to music!’

There’s no music, so she’ll make do with honesty.

“And— I like being with you. With or without toys.”

“So the whole thing was just a waste of time and bother?”

Adaar tilts her head, horns rustling against the pillow. “Well, I wouldn’t say _that_. We’ve both learned a little, yes?”

“Mmph.” Sera reaches up, pushing Adaar’s shoulder and Adaar falls over obligingly. Sera squishes the hard rolled pillow under Adaar’s head, making sure her horns won’t pierce the mattress, and then grips Adaar’s horn like a lifeline. Pulls herself into a deep kiss, lips soft with beeswax and honey, sweet and sloppy. “Still want a little fun?”

“Any size of fun with you,” Adaar says gravely.

Sera sniggers, blowing a raspberry into her cheek. “Come on then, you! Honey Tongue, Honey Tongue!”

Adaar grins, licking her lips with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle. Her tongue is longer than most, she knows, and pointed in a way that Sera finds endlessly fascinating. So it’s hardly a surprise when Sera swings both her legs over Adaar’s shoulders, thighs clasped tight about her ears, a bloodpulse of heat and pressure as she drives her wet cunt against Adaar’s mouth. Adaar wraps her hands over Sera’s thighs— so pale and small against her own grey skin, and sometimes she fears breaking her, but Sera’s strong, bendy, acts like she’s put together with twine and mischief— and pries them apart, just enough to make a little more space as her lips tousle against the dark crinkle of pubic hair.

Sera smells like musk and mead, a hint of acidity as Adaar flicks her tongue up, down, delving deeper into those pink folds. Adaar probes her tongue into Sera’s core, laps up, grunts as Sera twists a fist into her hair.

“Go on, go on, yeah…” Sera groans.

Adaar curls her tongue, a shallow thrust before pulling out again. Her nose buries against Sera’s belly, almost into the dip of her navel. Sera’s a soppy girl when she comes, a gushing slickness as Adaar tongues against her clit, lips braced against the hard press of pubic bone and face flushed with the weight of Sera’s body as Sera tilts forward, ass up and tits down, and Adaar adjusts her grip on those skinny thighs to keep her in position. Anything worth doing is worth doing _right_ , and that means giving Sera as many orgasms as it takes to get her absolutely soaked, and screaming, mewling, tiny fists beating into the pillow and her voice rising in something between chant and cussing as she calls out to a god that Adaar never believed in—

“Honey, Honey, stop, stop,” Sera gasps.

Adaar stops. Jaw aching, cheeks throbbing, lips smeared slick and sweet.

Sera scootches herself back, sitting square on Adaar’s chest with her ankles still over Adaar’s shoulders. Takes a few deep breaths. Grins.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Adaar smothers laughter between Sera’s thighs, this time wrapping her thumbs over, tugging Sera’s lips to expose the hard bud of the clit. She drags her tongue against the hood, thinks about trying a finger in Sera— but no, not at this angle, not without adjusting— and then probes up with her tongue, making a hard point that flutters against the clit. Could try spelling the alphabet (one of those old tricks that gets passed around like a marked deck of cards, but dammit if it doesn’t _work_ , at least sometimes, with some girls) but Sera laughs and laughs, setting her scant weight over Adaar’s jaw and gripping her horns, nails scratching at the rough keratin near the scalp.

“Spell my name, spell my name,” Sera pleads, voice quavering.

Adaar spells, the swirling loops of the ‘S’ flicking her over the clit, under, across the folds, then ‘E’ is a torment of swipes and a wince when Sera yelps ‘not there!’, so Adaar kisses an apology and moves to ‘R’.

But ‘A’ remains the winner; two long swipes at intersecting angles, framing snug around Sera’s clit, then a sideways flick of tongue that has Sera mewling. ‘A’ for the last letter of ‘Sera,’ or ‘A’ for the first letter of ‘Adaar.’ Either way, it’s Sera’s favorite, so Adaar repeats it, presses a long string of vowels so Sera comes like a firework, all sparking chemistry and colorful heat. Sera squirms and wriggles, and Adaar has to grab her hip to keep her in place, blunt claws dragging on the skin— but then Sera finally laughs, long and boneless, and says, “‘Nuff then, Honey Tongue. ‘Nuff.”

Adaar pulls her hand back, letting Sera collapse across her arm in a jelly-limbed sprawl.

“Oof, but that was good,” Sera says muzzily, nose buried in Adaar’s armpit. She giggles. “Yer face is all shiny.”

“So is yours,” Adaar points out. She places a thumb on Sera’s sternum, traces down the soft lines of the belly, the quiver of muscle and hard-edged bone. Traces the lingering red marks from her own claws. “Does that…?”

“Nah, don’t hurt. Didn’t hurt. Too busy feeling good to feel bad,” Sera sighs. She hooks her toes over Adaar’s thigh, wriggles. Pushes herself up and straddles Adaar’s hips, a quick flip of motion. Scaling Adaar like a mountain, the landscape of her body— the rolling plains of the belly, the soft hills of breasts, the high cliffs of her shoulders. Vast terrains of desire, for one with small hands and a quick mouth. “Honey Tongue,” she says, almost plaintively. “Want you to feel good too.”

“What coincidence. I want that too.”

Sera crinkles her nose, snorting, then smothers her own laugh with a long kiss, lips mashed, unafraid of Adaar’s sharp teeth and all her angled edges. She pulls back, bruise-soft, to suck and bite her way down Adaar’s neck. Her leg wedges between Adaar’s thighs and Adaar clasps them together, rutting against the hard muscle as Sera laughs, both hands spread butterfly-like over the grey expanse of Adaar’s belly. “Andraste’s arse but you’re fit,” she says admiringly, the muscles rippling in tortoiseshell pattern beneath her palms.

Adaar smirks. Brings her arm down, flexes her bicep in a slow and lazy curl.

Sera laughs, one long spill of merriment before grunting, easing herself down so that she’s humping into Adaar’s thigh, all jangled enthusiasm and sweaty wisps of fly-away hair as she tries to match Adaar’s slow rolls. Her breath hitches, a high-pitched whine in her throat as she braces herself onto Adaar’s leg, a mutual grind, limbs tangled and the covers twisting beneath them.

“Ng. Gah. You’re gonna clamp my leg off,” Sera pants. Adaar releases her legs, letting Sera wriggle southward. Adaar obligingly bends her knees, feet flat on the bed and thighs spread as Sera settles in place. Sera laps up, one long lick from hole to clit, nose tickling through the wet folds and coarse hair of her nethers, then a crude giggle as she wraps her lips around Adaar’s clit, just enough to blunt her teeth as she nibbles, sucks—

Adaar groans, gripping the pillow, elbows jutting skyward. Body taut, nocked like an arrow. All the small strains of struggling to keep her heels dug into the bed, to keep from crushing Sera between her legs.

Sera sniggers, blowing a raspberry into Adaar’s thigh and making her yelp. “I love your clit, yeah,” she whispers, like it’s some dear-held confession. “It’s big and ripe, like a strawberry. Fun to suck.”

“Do— do not,” Adaar pants, “Do not _tell_. Please. Just _do_.”

“I’unno, I was just thinking— that toy’s got a couple fun runes on it. Don’t have to stick it in you, but. If you want?” Her eyes light up, bright and hopeful.

Adaar licks her lips, heartbeat drumming her ears. “What do you have in mind?”

Sera scampers from between Adaar’s legs, tumbling to the floor and slapping her feet across the carpet as she reaches the discarded harness. She hoists it triumphantly, shimmying back into the straps. It fits snugly against her skin, the red leather catching the sunlight in warm ripples, and the metal rings glitter enticingly.

And of course, that outsized wooden cock bobs between her legs.

Sera gnaws her lip, rubbing her thumb along the stones embedded at the base of the toy, where the leather kisses her skin. Adaar is no mage, to read the runes engraved, but she has a suspicion as Sera stutter-tongues, “Well, this one’s to make a nice buzzy rumble, and then control it…”

“Have you ever used a strap-on before?” Adaar asks.

Sera nods. Then shakes her head, scowling. “Long time ago. Probably forgot everything.” Her jaw’s clenched, nostrils flared.

Adaar elects not to pursue that path. Instead she wriggles into the bed, cants her hips. “If it rumbles, we can try that later. How about grinding, for now?”

Sera nearly falls over in her enthusiasm, popping between Adaar’s legs and smushing her face into Adaar’s breasts, giggling as she nips, then sucks, and Adaar squirms just-so, making sure her clit’s perfectly aligned with the smooth lines of the toy…

Sera looks up, eyebrows crinkled. A wordless question.

Adaar nods, and Sera activates the rune.

It’s a bright, tickly vibration at first— more irritation than pleasure, but Sera squinches her face tight and rocks forward, elbows on Adaar’s ribs. She adjusts the setting with one hand, going from a high buzz to a deeper rumble that rocks through Adaar’s clit, resonates down nerve and sinew and sings into every inch of undulating flesh, from toes to scalp and she groans, pressing her palm into Sera’s back and keeping her other hand clenched into the pillow, so tight her claws will rip the fabric, but oh, oh…

“Oh. Oh _wow_ ,” Sera gasps. “It’s… I feel it too. Fuck. Shite. Wasn’t sure…”

Sera’s too far down for Adaar to kiss her, but Adaar strains, cricks her neck with the effort of trying. Lips shaping wordless obscenity, fragments of ‘oh shit’ or ‘oh fuck’ and maybe most of all ‘oh yes’ and her breath curling hot in her lungs as their bodies ebb and flow, grinding.

Sera keens, arching her back and driving the shaft harder against Adaar’s clit, slipping sideways but caught with Adaar’s hand at her shoulder, Adaar’s thighs curving around Sera’s hips and pinning her in place. Sweat and slick between them, breath rattling teeth and limbs as they move.

“I’m gonna. I’m gonna,” Adaar starts, but then she _comes_ , a metal-crash of nerves and impulse and most of all screaming, screaming, biting her own wrist to keep from shattering the windows.

“Okay, okay, _woof,”_ Sera groans, somewhere in her own private heaven before she too gasps and shudders, hips smacking Adaar’s thighs before she finally collapses, limp and spent.

And with that toy still vibrating between them.

“Ugh, turn it _off_ ,” Adaar begs. What once was fun is now too much, too much, her clit still red and throbbing. She imagines it the size of a strawberry now, swollen.

Sera flips over, turning it off. “It just.. Keeps _going_. Oof.” The toy still bobs between her legs, as if ready to perform.

Adaar snorts, batting it with one finger. It rocks forward, back.

“Hey, don’t swat my cock.”

“You gonna keep wearing it?”

Sera snickers. “Would look a fright under my trousers, yeah?”

Adaar pushes herself up, twisting to check the pillow— yes, a few punctures, but at least she’s not spilling feathers everywhere— and pour a glass of water from the pitcher near the bed. She takes a long swallow before passing it to Sera.

Sera gulps greedily, spilling some down her chin, then dripping across her breasts. Grins. “Hey, magic’s good for some things after all! Not so scary if I know it makes you come like that.”

“You were coming too,” Adaar points out, mild.

Sera rocks forward, putting the glass back on the nightstand. “Yeah, yeah. But that was. Howdja say. _Incidental_. You were coming up a storm, you were!” She giggles, both hands wrapped around her cock. She strokes them together, then pops her hips with an exaggerated wriggle. “Kinda fun having a dick.” Her eyes light up. “How about if I was like. _Really_ wearing it, fucking you on it?”

Adaar purses her lips, wrestling with a thought. Sera’s face crumples, shoulders sagging in apology, so Adaar hastens to say, “I want, I do! I was wondering where you meant to put it.”

“Your cunt, you daft— oh.” Sera’s eyebrows shoot up. Her grin stretches, threatening to crack her face. “You want it up your arse?”

“If there’s lube.”

Sera pops up, a scrabble-mill of limbs as she skids to the table, grabbing a bottle. “Yeah! Wasn’t gonna try sticking it in you _dry_. Even if you’re all slippery-like.” She drizzles it across her cock with a flourish, then slicks it into the wood as she shimmies back between Adaar’s legs. The tip of the cock bounces, slick against Adaar’s clit, before Sera grips the base, coaxing it to her entrance.

Warm and relaxed as she is, there’s no trouble sliding it in— the toy is big, yes, but so is Adaar. Outsized as it is on Sera’s frame, it still fits nicely, comfortably snug as Adaar groans, bringing her knees together to grip Sera’s hips as Sera rocks forward, back. A little bit of a stretch, at the very beginning, but that shifts to a comfortable fullness as Sera jitters her hips, a staccato slap of skin before she finds her rhythm.

Sera’s so small, her head barely level with Adaar’s breasts as she groans, then leans forward with one hand cupping each breast, squeezing. Almost possessive, before she reaches down again to activate the rune. The vibration rumbles through both of them, and Adaar tilts, adjusts so that the vibrating shaft is nestled snug against that one spot on her inner walls, and then it’s warm sensation. Sera’s hands pinch, squeeze, short nails catching against the soft bud of areola. She lists forward, kicking the bed as she grinds so her belly presses Adaar’s mound. Not anywhere near the direct pressure of earlier, but an indirect push and tug against the clit, anchoring them together.

Adaar sets her hand over Sera’s. Squeezes. Groans, low and slow as she climbs that mountain— this is a slower climb, after the high-buzz intensity of the toy against her clit, but perhaps an easier one, the path well paved. Her orgasm comes low and sweet, like honey off the comb, with Sera’s mouth gnawing marks into the grey basalt of Adaar’s belly.

“Honey Tongue, this is _hard_ ,” Sera mumbles, somewhere between a whimper and a groan. She looks up, hair mussed and cheeks pink. “It’s just… been a while, yeah?”

“If we put a pillow under me, perhaps…?”

Sera nods, hair flopping everywhere.

Adaar sits up, easing Sera out of her with a light kiss on top her head. Then she rolls over, grabbing the torn pillow and setting it under the box of her hips. She wriggles, considering the feel, then grabs another. Stacked like this, it adds more support, and Sera gives a low whistle, squeezing Adaar’s buttocks.

“Huh. This might work. Makes a beaut view too.” Sera pinches, then slaps, though it does little more than sting as she giggles high and bright. “Want to try…?” Her hands finish the sentence for her, fingers drifting to that dark cleft between the cheeks.

Adaar nods.

“Have you done it though? I mean—” Sera leans forward, the still-slick toy grinding between Adaar’s cheeks as she collapses her scant weight across Adaar’s back. “If it’s going up your bum, that’s like. A lot.”

Adaar stacks her hands, then settles them under her chin. “I have. I have been told I am very… adaptable.”

“That mean stretchy? Because oof, I mean.” Sera reaches for the bottle again, another generous glug as she pours it in place. Adaar feels the oil, slick and cool, as Sera massages it into the skin, then around the rim of her ass. “It’s still a lot.”

Adaar chuckles, leaning onto her forearms. “Well, why don’t we…? _Ooh_.” The toy bumps against her, pressing against that tight outer sphincter with a teasing rumble. Little more than pressure for now, until Adaar groans, and Sera tilts forward as the toy slides in, slow, Adaar accommodating—

“Ooh, _stretchy,”_ Sera sighs. She works her way forward, bit by bit, then pulls out to add more lube, enough to squelch as she slides back in. There’s no burn, no pain, only the cool slickness of the oil dripping down Adaar’s arse and smearing between her thighs. Sera makes slow progress, slower than in Adaar’s cunt, until her hips are flush with Adaar’s arse.

The vibration rumbles through her, deep and wonderful. All sorts of lovely tremors rippling up through her arse, coil behind her belly. Adaar licks her own fingers before sliding them down, hand mashed into the pillows as she works her clit with the broad flats of her fingers. That little bit of extra stimulation, coupled with that pressure and fullness, makes it seem like she hardly needs anything else.

But Sera puts one hand on Adaar’s back, the other on her buttocks, and starts _moving_. A different rhythm than before, faster on the pull than the push, and Adaar matches the pace, gyrates and squirms so they come together with a smooth snap of hips and flesh. Sera grunts, whines as she ruts deeper into Adaar. Her close-bit nails claw across the skin, anchor between the rungs of Adaar’s ribs.

Adaar almost laughs, thinking of how they must look— this tiny elf, hip-deep in a Vashoth swordswoman who could lift her with one hand— but even that thought is fleeting, lost beneath the cadence of skin and sweat and another long and shuddering climax, in which the world contracts to just these basics— skin. Sweat. Flesh. The lingering scent of lavender, Adaar’s nose buried in the sheets. The covers rumpled beneath her knees. The still-persistent rumble of the toy buried in her arse.

“That was good,” Adaar says.

Sera collapses with a pained whine, turning off the runes. “I’d hope! That was… dammit Honey Tongue, that was harder than I thought it would be!”

“Practice?” Adaar offers.

Sera fumbles at the buckles, detaches herself with a weary sigh. “Well, yeah! Too good not to try again, but. _Oof_.”

Adaar wriggles delicately, the toy still buried in her. The straps rustle against her thighs, tickling. “I’ll bring snacks next time.”

“Snacks?” Sera sprawls frog-legged across Adaar’s back, burying her nose in Adaar’s neck. “Blueberry tarts? And those little meat pies, the ones with the gravy and the peas and the…”

They eventually pull the toy out of Adaar’s arse, dropping it onto a pile of discarded clothing to clean later. Sera continues with an excited recitation of her favorite snacks, enough to feed an entire regiment twice over, and Adaar nods, listens. Flips the oil-smeared pillows over and arranges the blankets into a nest, and settles in for a midday nap as Sera finally talks herself into a droning snore.


End file.
